Pain
by Zoisy
Summary: Queen Mab's Desperation.    Hallmark's Merlin
1. Hurt

**Pain**

She has been lying on the floor for hours; scolding, pleading and screaming, without making a single sound. She was moaning in silence, blackness all round her, which felt embracing and protective. Comforting darkness enveloped her mind, like her raven hair used to wrap her flawless, pale body. She had been standing in front of a broken mirror but as grief and sorrow took her over, she was sunken to the floor. She broke them all; the mirrors, the promises, the hearts. She disturbed their minds; she filled them with desire, lust and abysmal despair. Hope usually went away with her leaving place. Leaving them all behind, defenseless, bended, spoiled. She was never meant to cause them trouble, but she was obsessively aiming to fulfill her wishes. The end justified the means. She was longing for it, alike they were yearning to believe in something, to feel her deep inside, to hail the incarnate beauty of Air and Darkness. They were tools to meet her needs, no more, no less. She didn't care about the people calling her a whore, for there seemed to be some truth in it, as she appreciated them talking about her, for catering her memory for live on, making her stronger by being a rumor. It had been so pathetically easy, her world had seemed to be filled with power, strength and might. Their faith had been strong, the love towards their Queen passionately. But they turned away. They had turned away from the Old Ways and betrayed her. So she needed to make a great decision. She had to create a leader, who would bring this unfaithful vermin back to her, making her important and forceful again. He was meant to be her champion, her chosen one, her _work_. He wouldn't be human as the New Ways' poor Messiahs was told to be. He was going to be a wizard, the greatest of all time, demonstrating might and consistency. He would bring the people back to the Old Ways, converting them to trust in the only reliable belief.

_Merlin..._he was her one and only hope to save her world from dying. He was magnificent, he was brave and smart. But he also did turn away from her. He blamed her for trying to prevent the Old Ways from being forgotten, from ceasing to exist. He blamed her for being selfish and ignorant. But she wasn't. She _knew _she wasn't. Otherwise she had never allowed him to unfreeze her heart. He has been the only one she ever felt for- expect for herself. But she wasn't ignorant at all. After their break, she had tried so hard to make him get back to her and the Old Ways. He wouldn't be able to survive out there. It was too dangerous; he didn't know the pitfalls of this cruel and nasty world. So she had to save him, she had to protect him; she had to shelter and teach him. But he didn't like to be taught anymore, for he left her. Not only physical, but mentally. He, himself didn't believe in her anymore, she knew for certain. But she was his _mother. _She _loved _him. She wasn't the one to blame. No she wasn't...

She touched her trembling breast, soaking in the air hastily and uttering it again fitfully. It was just not her fault. It was his...and Arthur's, but Arthur was only a token in Merlin's game of her defeat. Oh how many times did she try to reach him; but he had become untouchable.

"After all I've done for you...", she whispered choking. There was no chance for him to hear it for she was all alone. She buried her long, slender fingers in the silky blanket and sighted. Pain was tearing her apart, conquering her mind, becoming increasingly unbearable. She liked to scream but there was no sound leaving her throat. Instead she got up stumbling to the open window, relying herself onto the windowsill for grief was threatening to break her down. She uttered another sorrowful sight before barely covering her eyes with the other hand.

"Merlin", she sobbed, "Merlin, how much I _hate_ you." Her shady voice was wavering.

"It's your fault, Merlin, it's yours!" Her eyes, coloured in tangerine red, seemed to be sore as another tear was running down her cheek. "It is yours...", her voice broke.

She didn't even look up, steadily staring on the ledge. Even if it was late at night, there was no star, no moon to light up the gloomy sky. Clouds were passing by, covering every light source possible. She liked to call him, but she knew he won't be there. He won't be her warrior anymore. He liked to defeat her; he liked to destroy her existence. He hated her. He truly hated her; she could feel it in her skin, for there was still a strong connection between both of them. They were connected, deep inside they were bound and none of them was able to loose this connection, even if they desperately tried to tear this foreign force apart. But neither of them could ever succeed. They would never understand why. She didn't feel cold, for she was never freezing at all, as she never ate or slept. But she felt lost and very lonely. Her ruby blood seemed to stop flowing through her veins, she seemed to stop breathing, since her heart refused any additional beat.

"I loved you..." _Most of all you need love; If you had that once...no more. _She started shaking again. Salty tears were running down her face, her hand desperately trying to cover her shame, since she tried to prevent the Queen of the Old Ways from being seen like that, catching somebody's eyes in this moment of weakness. Oh well, she was _weak._ She was even weaker than these poor human, for she would have had the ability to gulp back her tears. But she didn't even try. She honestly didn't care about anyone watching her now. She had hidden it all for so long...for too long. All the sorrow, all the disappointment seemed to bluster out in this revolting moment of vulnerability. She'd put her trust in him. All his skills, everything he was, his whole subsistence, it was all her gain. Because of her, who could have saved her power, her, who could have restored her strength to convince the people on her own but instead of she had shared her properties, she had shared them with him. Hadn't he always been glad to be something special? Glad to be a creature of magic? To be mighty, fancy, clever and strong? How disgracefully ingrate he was. Frik should have taught him some manners before preparing him for reaching the third state of magic, which he rejected to acquire. But it didn't matter anymore. He was gone, Merlin was gone. She lost him..._forever. _He was cheating on her. He betrayed her like most of her followers had betrayed her, so many years ago. And she couldn't do anything to save her existence from fading. She felt so weak and invalid. It would take another lifetime to restore her power. But she would not have that much time, for she didn't intention to make the same mistakes again. She once put her trust in someone who, she had been confident, would even die for her aims. But she had been mistaken. She had made the great fault of dedicating her heart to someone who was unworthy to possess it. Another lonely tear was making its way down her cheek.

"You were my one and only, Merlin", she breathed, "but you will never know."

He was hiding behind the great wooden bookshelf after him having entered the room a few minutes ago. Mab had been in there for hours, so Frik had become seriously sorrowful, for she had never locked herself in the palace's bedroom before. He was huddling in front of a precious, antique candle stand listening to her heartbreaking moans, noticing her trembling silhouette. He was for sure that no one ever saw the Queen of the Old Ways weep before and no one would ever do again. What was he going to do? She would push him away, she would slap and punish him for daring to touch her, she would try to hide her distress behind bare aggression. How could he venture trying to comfort her? He was her servant and she was his Queen. He wasn't even allowed to be here, since she told him to take care of the visual-crystals in the hall of prophecy. She told him to clean up the library to sort the hundreds and hundreds of dusty, old books. And he did as he was told, until her return from a long, exhausting journey to the Mountain King. She had been furious, she had been upset, very, very upset but he never got to know what happened in the highs. Most likely it got something to do with Merlin; it always had when she was on her most unmerciful. But he wouldn't ever dare to ask. He would remain here, lingering on, waiting for her to calm down, so she wasn't all alone. Even if she would not notice him being in the room, his present hopefully was going to appease her, to save her from the engaging sensation of loneliness and desperation. Yes, he would be there, waiting for her to rest.

_I loved you. _Her whisper was breaking the nightly silence. Immediately he was feeling lonely as well.

She wasn't even capable of love. She never loved anyone. How could she ever say something like that? He pressed his back against the wall. How could she ever love someone like Merlin; but what about him, Frik? He, who had always been loyal and devout to her? If anything she punched and slapped, she bruised and abused him. He, who stuck with her, who suffered her angry outbursts and emotional overreactions? Was this fair? He didn't think so. Instead he continued to observe her silently, observing brilliant tears running down her cheeks, watching her shaking hands clutching at the sill. But who was he to comfort her? Who was he to near her? Who was he to feel sorry for his Queen?


	2. Comfort

He didn't know when and still less he didn't know how, as with a sudden movement the iron candle stand started to shake, it started to sway and with a deafening noise it fell to the floor. Desperately trying to keep his mischief from being noticed, Frik hid himself behind the great bookshelf but it was too late. She had already been aware of his presence, since she was spinning around quickly, straightly facing him, her piercing-green eyes filled with bare anger. The gnome started to whimper, for he should never have entered his mistresses' bedroom, but he had been too curious, too sorrowful. Would she understand? An enraged, high scream thrilled his every limb.

"By the gods, what are you doing in here?"

"Madam...excuse me...Madam, I was never meant to..."

An invisible punch hit him roughly, he knew that she was going to punish him even harder for his boldness. Her tear-stained, sore eyes quickly turned into two ruby comets, blinding Frik's look, so he had to turn away to not lose his eyesight.

"I told you to clean up the library!" she yelled, throwing up her hands accusingly, as for symbolizing her servant how great her disappointment was.

"Yes, Madam, and I did as I was told, I really did until...well, I got quite anxious about your condition, you had been in here for hours without any sign of life. I just liked to make sure that everything's all right."

She paused for a second, turning away thoughtfully, and leaning onto the sill again. The Fairy Queen sounded another doleful sigh, then whispered: "Nothing, really nothing's alright, Frik."

He looked up, for the gnome had certainly well recognized her voice starting to tremble again and he sincerely liked to prevent her from another nervous breakdown.

"Madam, I know it does not belong to me to ask you that frankly but..."

She soaked in the air in spurts, not deigning a look at Frik, who had risen to get closer to the window.

"You will leave my presence! _Get out!_ Didn't you have your triumph? Aren't you blissful to get a sight of me like this? I don't care about you telling everyone... You can recount it to all of them; tell my subjects how weak their Queen is. It's your great day, Frik. Congratulations. But I beseech you; please don't humble me still more by staying in here..."

Frik gasped soundly, since his Queen had never begged him like this before. Oh how much he yearned to tell her that he didn't feel a spark of satisfaction to see his mistress like this. He pitied her so very deeply and the only thing he was supposed to do was taking away her pain. He lingered after serving her, his only desire was to comfort her. Her contentment was all he had been living for. He should have known it from the start. He had made this decision by entering her realm.

"I actually don't feel satisfied at all, dear Madam." Gradually turning around she sighted, her emerald-green eyes still fixed on his.

"All that I'm looking for is making sure that _you _are satisfied in every kind of way; all that I'm living for is taking care of your precious guise and visionary ideas."

She hastily dashed away another lonely tear, signaling him to stop by putting out her hand protectively.

"Stop it!" He held on, constantly looking at her.

"All you need...is comfort."

"How dare you to judge about my needs? I don't need to be comforted in any way. I am the Queen of Air and Darkness. I am above such things." She didn't sound very confidently. He was increasingly nearing her.

"Don't you ever dare touching me!", she screeched. He didn't care about her struggling. He got closer to his Queen, to the open window and the black chasm. She would injure him, she would slap and punch and abuse him dreadfully, but he really didn't care about these circumstances. He has been standing right in front of her, looking up into her beautiful, pale face, regarding her dainty features. He was expecting her to push him away immediately and as he closed his eyes he deeply regretted his cockiness. How could he have been that reckless? She would not only be going to make him suffer physically, she would be going to _kill_ him! Would she? He was awaiting the deathly curse or at least one of those terrible incantations, which would make him squirm with pain. But none of this happened. As he opened his eyes, he noticed her having started to weep. She was weeping so much that her whole body was shaking; tears were dropping from her face, silently merging with the dark floor's cold black. She didn't touch him, she didn't even recognize him standing in front of her.

Instead he warily wrapped his arms around her trembling body, slightely stroking her back. He held her close and she did not try to free herself in any way, since she was dropping her whole self, making herself conditional on her servant, Frik the gnome, who seemed to be her only true comforter. She felt terribly lonely, she felt so very lost and a great freezing from deep within began to capture her whole existence. But she didn't recognize it, for he was there, holding her, keeping her save. It felt like heaven, even if she would never be going to confess. She wept freely, as she could not gulp back her sensations any longer. Frik himself had chosen this way, now he needed to take the consequences. She smirked inwardly. Lying in his arms she could feel his warm, vital skin as fresh blood was rushing through his veins. What an empty shell she was.

"It...it's got nothing to do with you, F...Frik." Her voice broke.

"Please", he indicated her to keep silence, "hold on." She nodded, then continued her silent crying, resting in Frik's embrace. The gnome whereas kept on stroking her back, carefully running his fingers through her raven hair until all her moaning ceased and she had been fallen in some kind of sleep, since she never slept at all, it was merely a silent rest in times of great exhausting. He laid her down on the silky blankets, then quietly carried on his tyding up in the library.


End file.
